


(A Bullshit) Tuesday On Repeat

by xAglow



Series: Sunday Breakfast AU [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Breakfast, Cause They'll Never Remember, Chair Sex, Domestic, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fun, Groundhog Day, Hand Jobs, Humor, Implied/Referenced Sex, Inappropriate Time Loop Sex, M/M, Multi, Past Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Time Loop, Tropes, Unsafe Sex, Use Condoms In RL Kids, Woman on Top, all the sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:32:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xAglow/pseuds/xAglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For everyone in the tower, it was a Tuesday, well… for everyone other than Darcy that is. </p><p>“You try living through this many Tuesdays in a row and not end up having inappropriate sex!” Darcy tried to defend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Update: This story now includes all the sex.
> 
> I also wanted to play on the Ground Hog Day trope so in this story there isn't anything Darcy can do to get out of the loop. It is complete out of her control. She was just the hapless bystander that had some Mew Mew style radiation that allows her to remember living the same day over and over again, while Joe Shmoe somewhere has to fix his life before the days will stop repeating. I find this adds to the one shot being a little more open ended and I like that. Keeps it free to be more for later should the muses be kind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I ended up writing a little bit of a prequel to my original post. Enjoy!

It was a moment for Darcy’s sleep addled brain to register the alarm coming from her phone. Fucking Tuesdays. Most people hate Mondays because of the weekend hangovers (alcohol involvement or no), but it was Tuesdays that always got Darcy in a mood. There was just never enough to do that’d eat up the work hours. It made Tuesday's seem to drag on like a bitch.

Darcy fucking rocked at Mondays. Mondays zipped by for Darcy. About 60% of her working day was usually spent replying to emails from the all and sundry that wanted at Jane’s big brain. Darcy, All Around Girl Friday of Awesome, was officially posted (and paid!) to manage Jane’s post-Thor life and general genius. So, after finishing said email duty (lol duty) she’d be near done her work day. This job included an Avenger Tower invite along with Jane when she moved in with Thor after the whole London thing. This gave Darcy rent free living in the middle of New York and she generally loved life for setting up up so well… That optimism held most days until Tuesday's came round again. 

It took a few tries of swiping her finger across the touch screen on her phone to get the alarm to turn off. That small miracle managed, Darcy rallied herself to get out of bed. It was a couple of minuets before she could do it, but in a sudden flurry of movement and kinetic energy, Darcy jackknifed herself off the bed and a few steps forward towards the attached bath (did she already say how awesome the RENT FREE living arrangement was?). Now up and away from the heaven that was 1 million thread count sheets, Darcy trudged to the bathroom to start her morning ablutions. 

College might be where Darcy learnt the most useful thing of her life and it wasn’t even from a class, but a byproduct of having them. Darcy was up, ready and dress within 10 minuets of jumping out of bed. She threw on a pair of jeans from her floor-closet that perhaps could have used washing along with the massive pile of cloths on the floor in the corner of her room. Sunday had been laundry day for Darcy, but a tumblr decent of epic proportions has waylaid her and now she was left sporting jeans that had a suspicious grey stain just above the right knee and a comfy sweater dress that her boobs made pants necessary for so as not to be a Stark Industry HR issue. Her hair was brushed and lightly teased into a flirty shape. Lips, eyeliner and mascara applied. Glasses on and she was out the door and heading towards the breakfast waiting for her in the communal kitchen shared by the entire Avengers. Yeah, this is her life now. Breakfast with the Avengers.

It took her all of 2 steps into the kitchen to smell the mess Clint was ‘cooking’ to remember another reason she hated Tuesdays. After a few Sundays of Darcy making pancakes for everyone a few of the Avengers had started pitching in on other week days and making whoever was around breakfast. Clint had taken up Tuesdays as the day he’d personally cook everyone ‘authentic’ circus meals he had grown up with. This meant some highly inappropriate things ended up being consumed for breakfast (such as candied apples, whale tails, churros, hot dogs, popcorn and turkey legs to name a few). Today it smelt like he was making something with cheese. There was a slight grease smelling plum of steam coming from where Clint was working over the stove.

Shaking her head absently, Darcy moved fully into the room, moving to cross the kitchen along the far side of the kitchen island from the stove. She'd managed a step and a half when Bruce’s mug of tea came flying at her. On the side of the island closest to the hallway Tony and Bruce had been discussing something animatedly (that is, Tony’s was animated about it) and some particularly wild gesticulating had thrown the mug off the counter-top. There was a moment of silence in the kitchen after the crash of the broken glass from the mug. The tea had been tepid, but the tea seeped into her sweater and down her left leg still felt uncomfortable.

“Oops,” Tony said as Bruce started, “Oh, Darcy. I’m so sorry.” As if he was the one that had knocked it over, not Tony.

“I thought it was rude to throw ones cup to the ground at meals?” Darcy overheard Thor ask Jane. Jane’s focus was turned to the floor where the mess was. She must have been startled from her reading at the sound of breaking glass.

“It is rude,” Darcy answered and turned to glare at Tony.

“A new pair of jeans-,”

“And blouse,” Darcy cut it.

“-and blouse will be here tomorrow. I’ll get Pepper to pick something nice for you.” It was the only form of apology she’d get from Stark, but if she had new jeans she could put of her laundry for that much longer.

Stepping past Tony, Darcy gave a morose nod in greeting to Natasha who was rather unfazed by the happenings. She seemed to be eyeing the ‘breakfast’ Clint had made her with suspicion. Darcy took a seat next to Jane who was sitting on the far side of the island from Tony and Bruce. This afforded Darcy a prime spot across from Tony where she could watch him shifting uncomfortably under her glare. He’d set her shoe’s on fire in the lab a few weeks back and she hadn’t screamed, but had gotten even by only making him plain, non-Avenger faced pancakes the following Sunday, while everyone else got the cool Avenger faced ones. He knew what this tea incident would cost him if he fumbled again this day.

Darcy noticed that beside her, Jane’s unbound hair was now dipping into the scientist’s coffee. Darcy sighed for the fate of her boss and idly wondered at how the woman had functioned PD (Pre-Darcy). Darcy figured geniuses came in one of three varied personalities that 5-year-olds epitomized. They were either hyper-attention-hogs, painfully shy, and or so in need of management that they let things like their own hair fall into their drinks. Each of the Scientist's Three held one of these type-casts respectively… Sue Storm was perhaps the only genius that Darcy had met that didn't fall under these archetypes, but that was because the woman was a scientist-whisper in her own right, like Darcy was.

Darcy was about to reach for her boss’s hair to put it up in her afternoon hair tie (for when the day dragged and her hair was a little limp and needed to get the fuck out of her eyes), but the kitchen was subjected to another loud crack of breaking glass. Motion aborted Darcy's focus, along with everyone else's, turned to Clint, who’d dropped the pan he’d been working with and cracking the sleek glass stove top.

“Was that the good pancake burner?” Darcy asked in horror.

At this Natasha’s head snapped up. If there was anyone in the tower that enjoyed Sunday pancakes more than Thor is was Natasha.

“Darcy,” Jane started patiently, as if Darcy were a 5 year old.

“No, shut up! That burner makes the pancakes perfectly!” Darcy defended.

“Darcy, I’ve told you that JARVIS has your preferences saved for the so-called-perfect cooking heat. Any of the other burners will work the same,” Tony said in carefully controlled irritation. He knew he was still on thin ice and so the statement was delivered with far less snark.

Clint looked stricken by what he’d done to the Pancake Burner. “You can fix it before Sunday, right Stark?”

“Jesus, Clint.” Tony said in true exasperation.

“Does anyone need a reminder of what happened the last time Darcy tried to cook on one of the other burners? It just… wasn’t the same.” Natasha said this last in such a quite voice of remembered horror that Darcy thought it was in reference to a Red Room flashback not the breakfast gaff off a few months ago. 

“Fuck, next you guys are goanna tell me that you believe in astrology!” Tony shook his head in obvious disappointment of his teammates.

“I’m a Sagittarius and you would not believe how much that explains about my personality, Stark.” Darcy said evenly. She was thinking the next 4 Sundays without fun Avenger faced pancakes would show Stark the error of his ways.

Ever the diplomat, Bruce chimed in, “You know there are immeasurable elements in cooking just as with chemistry and engineering. Things like intuition and feelings, Tony… Think of it like how you can only blow torch something when you’re either at its 10 or 3 o’clock.” Darcy had the absent though that Bruce spoke like he was one of Tolkien’s Ents. He spoke slowly and with purpose.

Darcy waved vaguely at Clint in thanks when he put a plate in front of her. She had a fork full and in her mouth before really thinking about it and… Yup! That was a mouthful of straight melted cheese. Melted cheese strings pulled up from the plate to her raise fork and from her fork to her mouth. Darcy caught Natasha’s move as the other woman dropped her fork in defeat. Darcy imagined Natasha mentally cataloging it was a tactical retreat as apposed to a defeat. Across the island Tony and Bruce were really getting into this ‘feelings’ debate (Tony’s air quotes heavily implied). 

Setting her own fork down Darcy turned to Jane, “Hey, boss lady. Shall we get our science on early?” anything to save her from having to finish the mess on the plate.

“hum?” Jane looked up blearily, “I suppose…

 

And with that Darcy started the longest Tuesday of her goddamn life! Jane had next to no work for her to really occupy herself with, but it trickled in enough to be just distracting enough from getting into anything on Netflix. 7 pm was slow coming. Even the hour long lunch Darcy took felt too long to be humanly possible. She said as much at dinner when, once again, the Avengers assembled for a shared meal.

“JARVIS didn’t detect any temporal fluctuations today or he would have alerted me, right J?” Tony supplied.

“None detected, sir”

“See?” Tony smiled beautifully at her.

“It just felt, like, a really long day…” Darcy insisted.

“That’s a physiological heuristic-,” Bruce started, 100% in lecture mode.

“Not at the dinner table, Bruce.” Natasha said, saving the group from being put to sleep while they ate.

The day had gone by fairly uneventful, if slowly. There weren’t any Doom Bot attacks, AIM was quiet, Hydra too. The Xmen and the Fantastic Four hadn’t called for anything. Spiderman and Daredevil had seemed to go the day without causing any public property damage too. Being a Tuesday, and as bad as they generally are, Darcy was gonna put this as a category 2 out of 5. Like the Richter scale, it was felt by people; with noticeable shaking of indoor objects; but no damage to buildings. 

That was until Darcy woke up the next day and felt herself dragging as if it was Tuesday again. Wednesdays were okay days, generally speaking. Every once in a while the previous days’ awful would bleed into a Wednesday and Darcy might have a second mini-Tuesday that week, but yesterday hadn’t been as bad as to warrant this… feeling. 

Darcy couldn’t even muster the get up and go to propel herself from the best like she normally does and instead lifts herself from the bed, joints creaking and popping as she did. She was slower getting out the door today than yesterday. Her 10 min standard had been more of a 15 min slug out the door. She was in the jeans from yesterday. They’d faired surprising well despite having tea silt on them. They looked and felt like the tea had just been water rather than the full-bodied tea she knew Bruce drank. Passing over a few shirts that Darcy questioned the cleanliness of, she settled on a navy blue long sleeved shirt. It was really meant for layering, but was thick enough to work as a stand-alone shirt. Beggars, or rather non-laundry-doers, can’t be choosers. 

As slow as she was to get up this morning it wasn't until half way down the hallway that she was hit with the smell coming from the kitchen. Cheese. Greasy, melting cheese was what she smelled. Someone was cooking cheese again? After only a few bites of Clint’s ‘breakfast’ yesterday she was put off cheese for the foreseeable future and she’d gotten the impression the team was on the same boat she was on with regards to the dairy product. 

Taking a few steps into the kitchen Darcy noticed Bruce was banging the brooms dustpan on the inside of the trash bin and there was an accompanying sound of tickling porcelain. Tony was standing by the kitchen island near the entrance to the hallway, poking his foot at a towel on the ground. Presumably he was trying to wipe up the liquid she could see pooled under a curled up portion of the towel.

“Did you knock over another mug, Tony?” Darcy asked warily. Something hinky was going on here.

“I don’t break them that often!” Tony sounded affronted.

“You broke one yesterday morning and it looks like you did it again,” Darcy checked her phones clock, “I think it’s been exactly 24 hours since you did this exact thing.” Tony looked at her oddly, “And you still owe me a pair of jeans and a new blouse!”

“What are you talking about?” Tony blurted.

“Yesterday morning. You knocked over Bruce’s mug,” She gestured and looked to Bruce who was still holding the dust pan at the kitchen sink. It was here she noticed, “What the hell are you cooking breakfast for again!?” She said this last at Clint who was standing by Bruce. “It’s Wednesday! I was looking forwards to cereal palazzo! All morning cereal buffet.” Darcy said remorsefully. 

“It’s Tuesday, Darcy.” Jane said slowly, like she was a 5 year old.

“Yesterday was Tuesday.” Darcy said automatically.

“No, yesterday was Monday.” Bruce had his concerned Doctor face on. He rounded the counter to stand in front of Darcy and started probing her scalp lightly with both hands. “Do you remember hitting your head at all yesterday or this morning?” He had very warm hands and his tone was so gentle and reassuring that Darcy swooned a little on the spot.

“No,” She answered him, dumbfounded by his actions. He generally didn’t touch people.

“Does it hurt anywhere I’ve been pressing?” his hands felt so great, the pressure perfect for a scalp message. He’d worked the entire front of her cranium (lol cranium) and had moved to pressing his figured on the back of her head. She had the very inappropriate thought of kissing him.

“Don’t kiss him Darcy,” Jane’s voice, sounding pained, interrupted her thoughts.

“I said that out loud?” Darcy asked at the same time Tony confirmed, “You said that aloud, kid,” he laughed as Bruce took a large step away from her and dropped his hands like she’d burned him.

The distance gave her a chance to take in his entire face. He was as red as a tomato under his tanned skin. “Does it go all the way down your chest?” She asked. She was 100% conscious of saying this aloud, but he’d started it, groping at her head like that.

“Darcy!” Jane spluttered. She was more articulate that Bruce who seemed to have swallowed his tongue. 

Tony was laughing rather loudly and it took her a second to notice that Clint was too. He was laughing just as hard as Tony and in doing so fumbled the pan he was holding. It dropped, hitting the stove top, breaking the glass.

“Shit!” Clint explained, but he was still smiling as he moved the food away from the broken glass and turned off the burner. 

“You did that yesterday too!” Darcy explained.

This brought everyone’s attention to her again.

“Something is seriously wrong here, guys! I mean, I think I’ve lived this already! And this is way more than some freaky déjà vu crap. I’m talking, like, I know that yesterday Jane and I worked on the whatzit for measuring the whozit-waves-of-stuff and I took a ton of boring readings and then we had a nice dinner and LIVED THIS TUESDAY ALREADY, PLEASE BELIEVE ME!” Darcy was freaking out a little. She can handle pressure just fine, but she couldn’t handle being though of as crazy-crazy. A little crazy? Sure, it made one sound fun. Crazy-crazy was not the fun type to be called.

“Don’t worry, Darce. We’ll figure this out,” Jane said rushing to Darcy’s side like the true BFF she was.


	2. Bruce and Darcy Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the plan was to write one-shots for all the smut, but there was some story development in this PWP, and the pain of one-shots... blah. Enjoy your Bruce/Darcy sexytimes~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be another few inserts (that I still need to write) after this chapter. One will be about Clint and Darcy, another about the Tony/Steve/Darcy, and then the Darcy/Natasha, but after that there shouldn't be any more weird "prequel" chapters like I have going on right now.

Bruce Kicks It Off - Around The 3 Month Mark

It was luck and nothing at all science related that ended up solving the mystery of why she was in the time loop. Stress on the ‘why’ part of the problem more than the ‘solving’ it part. It was coming up to the 3 month mark of repeated Tuesday’s and the Scientist’s Three were no closer to finding a solution than they were that first time they’d tried looking into Darcy’s problem. 

Darcy had been dogged in not missing a Tuesday to ask for help. At the end of each day she’d sit down to memorize the things they’d tried that day (that inevitably didn’t work) so she could report back the next day and they wouldn’t repeat tests. This made skipping a day, even for her own mental wellness, impossible. Darcy had been a good student (when she’d gone to class), but memorizing a ton of stuff, and science stuff at that, just wouldn’t be possible if she let herself slack, even a little. As much as she hadn’t been skipping day’s, she had still been ‘sleeping in’ each time she woke up. This caused her to miss breakfast and avoid fielding questions from Clint, Natasha and Thor. She streamlined her day by catching Tony, Bruce and Jane in the lab where they had their thinking caps on. 

This particular Tuesday, the one Darcy later dubbed as the one that kicked of her string of inappropriate sexual encounters, found her sleeping in a little longer than she had been. The snooze option on her phone having given out after an hour of trying to remind her to wake up. She’d gotten dress in yoga pants and a shirt she’d found on her floor that didn’t clash too sharply with the acid green of the tights. Thor caught her on her way to the communal kitchen.

“Lady Darcy, you look unwell,” Thor’s voice boomed alarmingly for this early in the - oh wait, it was, like 10:00am… Not too early then, she supposed.

Darcy padded past him in her Yoshi slippers, making a light swishing sound with her feet on the hard wood floors as she shuffled to get some chocolate milk. The route she’d taken to (after deciding to avoid the breakfast crowd) was to get her ‘breakfast’ and take it down to the labs. Chocolate milk seemed to help fortify her for the coming day of experiments and tests more than coffee had been.

“It’s been a long couple of Tuesday’s, Big Guy,” she said, pulling out the milk form the fridge and pouring a glass. “I’ve sort of been repeating the same day over and over again.” She opened the cupboard over the sink, moved the iced tea mix out of the way and grabbed for the NestQuik. “Jane, Tony and Bruce have tried a whole host of things to see why, maybe help even, but nada so far.” She pulled a spoon from the utensils draw and started stirring in the chocolate mix before continuing with sigh, “I’m just sort of done. It’s been months of this shit and we’re no closer to finding a reason for it all.”

“A reason?”

“Yeah, I mean there has to be a reason why something or someone is making me repeat the same day, right?” This she said facing Thor. She couldn’t help the almost pleading look on her face. She needed an ally and Thor was always great at unconditional support.

“A… reason…” he said stiltedly, but he had a far way look, like he was thinking the worlds through. Thinking about them far more than what Darcy thought was their due.

“Yeah?”

“There is a devise,” He started, looking off into the distance a little over Darcy's right shoulder. “It sends whosoever touches it back to repeat the day until they have found clarity, a better understanding of themselves and their place in the world.” He turned to Darcy now, “Have you touched a large yellow-glowing orb that may have felt like the pelt of a Yjotunge?” He looked intense.

“Um, no?”

“Come, I know what test Anthony need run to see for the devises signature.” At this Thor grabbed Darcy’s hand and they hauled ass for the labs.

Once there Thor didn’t even give the scientist time to great them before issuing order on what needed to be prepared in order to test if Darcy had been affected by the devise. And as it turned out the trace radiation test showed she had been near it, despite Darcy having a distinct lack of memory for yellow-glowing-anything’s! It was determined that the trace levels were small enough that Darcy couldn’t have touched it, and yet was still affect somehow. There was some engineering fandagling from Tony, but they made a tracker from his private satellites. It showed the thing was on Earth. They found someone in Australia whose radiation levels corresponding with device were high enough that they much have touched it. 

“It is his or her’s day to repeat, to learn from and grow as a person,” Thor lamented. “I am not sure why you have been brought into this, why you remember when we do not, lady Darcy. Know that it will not be forever that you are stuck repeating this day and that you can take this time for yourself as much as they, themselves are.”

After all was said and done it was rather late, maybe 3 hours before midnight. Tony had been called away (a call he normally ignored in favour of helping Darcy). Thor and Jane had gone back to their rooms. That left Darcy, still a little shell shocked from the helplessness of her situation. She didn’t even realize Bruce was still there in the lab with her.

“I’m sorry Darcy,” He said quietly into the empty lab.

Someone, perhaps Jarvis, had cut most of the lights since Tony and Jane had both left. Bruce section of the lab space had a few overhanging lights that were still on.

“How can some all powerful alien devise take away my agency like this when its purpose is to help people find theirs?” Darcy crossed the lab from the dark section she’d been in to where Bruce was at his workstation. “Not to sound trite, but how is that fair?”

“Not to sound trite, but if you haven’t heard: the world’s not fair.”

Darcy laughed bitterly. She pulled out the chair opposite of him at the table and moved it around the table to sit next to him. This was the time for human contact, Bruce’s aversion to it be damned. Darcy had no illusions. She was vulnerable as fuck. She had just learned she had no control in her life at this moment. This, after months of stress and memorizing science and repeatedly assuring her friends that, no, she’s not crazy and to please believe her and help. Tomorrow she would take that long wait mental health day and cry like a baby. Today, she was gonna lean on Bruce’s should and cry just a little bit on it, his feelings on the matter be damned.

He was stiff at first, only easing a little when all she did was lean into his side.

“When was the last time someone - other that Tony - touched you?” She asked absently. It was all of two seconds after saying that, that Darcy knew she was being a bitch. When she was miserable she tended to lash out in these petty ways, spreading the hurt around. It’s why she generally opted to cry alone in her room cause she could be a shitty person sometimes. 

Leaning into his should a little harder she said, “I’m sorry, that was a shit thing to ask.”

His shoulder shook a little with a self-deprecating laugh, “No, it’s a fair question after turning into particle board at your touch.” 

“My touch in particular?” She asked, trying to look up at him from her peripheral vision.

He eased a little further at this, laughing again, “No,” he said simple.

“My touch on this particular part of you, perhaps?” she said, infusing a little bit of the once easy flirtation she’d normally direct his way, just to see him blush. 

She expected his normal laugh of embarrassment, of dismissal, but instead he moved the arm she’d been leaning on to wrap around her shoulders. Perhaps it was because of the seriousness of the day, or his general empathy. Whatever the reason, it was sort of perfect. She snuggled into his side and just about started crying. 

No. She thought resolutely. That was for tomorrow. She could break down in a few hours when the day started again, but for now she’d hold it together. Bruce was gonna help hold her together.

That last thought had her mind snagging a little. 

Darcy looked up from Bruce’s chest and saw him watching her with a sad sort of understanding. She couldn’t help the way her eyes darted down to his lips.

“Darce?” Bruce said warily.

“This is happening,” She said, and not giving him time to pull back she kissed him. It was a little more than awkward. More teeth bumping than lips and it took her a couple of seconds to realize… 

Pulling back Darcy blurted, “You’re not pulling away.”

“Well,” Bruce started, face heating. “We’ve been flirting for a while, and I can see you shouldn’t be alone right now…”

“Taking one for the team?” Darcy quipped

“Hardly,” Bruce coughed a laugh, “Have you see you?”

It was Darcy’s turn to blush. “Flatterer.”

“A regular Don Juan, that me.” Bruce said wiggling his eyebrows in a way he must have thought of as roguish. The dork just looked like the caterpillars he had for eyebrows were doing the wave. 

“I could totally handle this as a pity lay.”

Bruce looked away before saying, “More like a dream come true.”

“Been dreaming about me often?”

“Not to give you too much to hold over me when I can’t remember tomorrow, but… yeah. You come in here every day and… and you’re like a mini sun here in the lab. You make things brighter.”

“Jane’s the astrophysicist, not you.” Darcy said, leaning back into Bruce’s embrace. “Shouldn’t you be comparing me to some bio-medical something or other.” 

“I’ve read the _Goblin Market_ , I know enough not to add to the over sexualized imagery of the female body.” He said in a stage whisper, moving closer for a kiss again.

“Damn, speaking my wishy-washy Liberal Art language, Doc. Turns me on.”

There wasn’t a lot of talking after that. Darcy far too busy sucking on Bruce’s tongue. For Bruce’s part he was too busy pulling Darcy onto his lap and trying not to cum in his pants like a teenager.

Pulling apart with heavy breathing Darcy asked, “the cool thing about today repeating is that even if JARVIS is records this it won’t be there tomorrow.”

There was a too long pause from Bruce so Darcy stopped leaving a hickie on his neck to look at his face. He was flushed, but trying to hide why.

“You like the idea of what we’re doing being recorded.” Darcy said incredulously.

Sounding pained Bruce said, “I’m not sure if you knowing this stuff without me knowing that you know it makes this more liberating or not.”

Laughing, Darcy says, “just go with it, I am. And think, if my repeating days means this has no consequences than I guess we don’t need a condom, right?” She said this last with sweet salaciousness. 

Bruce’s cock twitch at the thought of all that hot, wet flesh surrounding him. He had to close his eyes and focus on breathing.

“Just… Go slowly, okay?” He bit out when Darcy forged ahead and started grinding down onto his covered erection.

He gripped her hips, forcibly stopping her movement. The ridiculous green tights she had on left nothing to the imagination and Bruce got two wonderful handfuls of her full hips. He couldn’t help moving his hands around and down to grope at her ass cheeks. In retaliation Darcy lifted her shirt up and off. She unclasped her bra in the next moment and sat beaming at Bruce in triumph. 

Bruce was having a very real internal dilemma. His hands, so wonderfully occupied by Darcy’s ass, itched to hold her pale breasts. He compromised, holding tight to Darcy’s right cheek for balance and to guide her movements on top of him, while his other free hand moved up to cup her left breast. He watched the nipple pucker as he twisted and rolled it. Mindful of the other, negligent breast Bruce bent his head and captured it with his mouth. 

Darcy moaned, arching her back to help Bruce get a better angle to suck her nipple. Her hands speared into his hair, fingers sifting through the curly locks. _It really is as fluffy as it looks_ she thought deliriously. 

“Pants. Off.” She managed, extricating herself from Bruce. 

Standing shakily, Darcy toed off her remaining slipper and peeled down the leggings and underwear. Joining Darcy, Bruce stood and went for the buttons on his shirt.

Batting his hands away Darcy said, “You get the pants, I’ll get this.”

She had almost all of the buttons undone by the time he managed the single button on his kakis and had carefully pulled the zipper down over his erection. She took hold of his arms long enough to pull his shirt off, only to pull his pants down enough around his thighs before pushing him back into the seat. Darcy re-mounted him and started rubbing her open sex, wet and hot, up and down his exposed cock.

“Fuck, Darcy.” He said brokenly.

Sounding just as wrecked Darcy said, “Please tell me I’m not about to rape you or anything? Please say yes or something cause I can’t stop thinking that you really are just taking one for the team here. And –” Bruce cut her off with a searing kiss.

Pulling back enough to say, lips brushed with every word, “Please Darcy, can I?”

Laughing into the breath between them Darcy said, “You’re a grown man and you can’t ask a woman if you can enter her?”

“I’m not really good at the romance words, language…. English.” Bruce panted with one hand on his dick guiding the head at Darcy’s entrance.

“Please, can I penetrate your vaginal cavity with my facile, Miss. Lewis.” Darcy said in a deep voice meant to imitate a man’s, but she ruined the impression with her feminine laughter at the end.

“Is that how you think I sound, how I talk?” Bruce said between laughs.

“No, I was just giving you an option for next time, you know, a line you can say that’s in your own science lang–” Darcy didn’t finish, Bruce interrupting her with a forceful push into her.

Head dropping forward Darcy crooned, “So good,” into the crook of his neck.

“You’re so God damn tight, Darcy.” Bruce said with feeling, fighting to control his breathing and heart rate.

“Please,” Darcy whispered in his ear, breath ghosting over him, “just, please.”

Bruce started moving, restricted as he was under her and by the tight bite of his kakis around his thighs. The room became quiet, but for the sounds of sex. Slaps and wet sounds of flesh meeting, punctuated by quiet encouragements and moans from the couple at the lab table. Darcy’s thighs started to burn with the effort of moving on top of him, but she was close, so damn close. 

“Just. A little. More.” Darcy bit out, sweat dripping down her temples and back.

Bruce moved one of the hands that was helping to stabilize Darcy as she moved atop him. Bring it around towards her sex, he started rolling and pinching her clit with little to no finesse. 

“Yes!” Darcy cried out. 

A little more effort from Bruce pushing up into her and Darcy was cuming on his cock, pulling up and off and then back down in a few more short staccato trusts before having to stop.

Breathing heavily, Bruce ask, “You okay?” his hips making small motions up into her, rolling his hips into her shallowly.

“Yeah, sorry.” And Darcy got back up and started moving on top of him again. 

Bruce wasn’t that far behind her to cum. It was hot and felt good to feel someone cum inside her. Darcy flew her kink flag high and didn’t care. If liking it when a guy cums inside her was wrong Darcy did not want to be right. 

Bruce was done. The angle they’d been having sex in let him rest his dick still inside Darcy as she sat atop him. He felt his cum and her juices start to coat his thighs, but couldn’t be bothered to care enough to move and do something about it.

“Well that escalated quickly,” Came the dry voice of Tony Stark from across the lab.

Bruce stiffened, making an aborted effort to cover himself, then Darcy, then trying to cover them both. Darcy just laughed.

“Sorry Stark, but you wont remember seeing this,” Darcy said, gesturing to her naked self with a lazy and uncoordinated sweep of her hand, “cause, like, in an hour, this day with reset.” She sounded lethargic and content. 

“Couldn’t you maybe stop staring, Tony?” Bruce said, sounding aggrieved. 

“I really can’t,” Tony laughed.

Tomorrow Darcy would cry. After she remembered that she was stuck on this repeating Tuesday from hell, but until then, not even Tony Stark was gonna kill this post-sex buzz she was rockin.

So, it had taken almost 3 months of repeating the same Tuesday for Darcy to figure out why she was have a Groundhog Day-esk time loop and by proxy no less. Some helpless idiot out in the world had touched an alien artifact-of-the-most-ultimate-suck that meant s/he (and Darcy for whatever reason) were going to repeat the same day over and over again. Thor assured that the devised was not malevolent, but it was meant to help bring clarity to the one that touched it. Darcy didn’t know if this meant she was supposed to find some clarity along with this other person and Thor said she ought to take the time to anyway. As Darcy had promised herself she took a day. A day she spent crying in bed and studiously wallowing in what her life was before she put her big girl panties on and took on the next repeated Tuesday. She was gonna kick the shit out of this day, literally.

Walking into the Tower’s gym Darcy notices Clint was working out on a treadmill. Perfect!

“Clint!” Darcy shouted. She’d like to say she caught him off guard enough that her shout caused him to stumble (cause that would have been hilarious), but he just turned his head to her (boring). 

“Teach me to punch,”

At that Clint hit pause on his run, jumping off it once the machine had slowed to a stop.

“Why do you wanna learn this now?” Why did he sound so suspicious? “Nat had set you up with a trainer when you and Jane moved in and you said, and I quote, “Boobs like this don’t like the type of gravity involved in working out’,” Clint smirked at her. Darcy was about to give him a sharply worded reply, but sweet was slipping from his hair down his neck and Darcy was a tad distracted.

“I need to punch something,” She congratulating herself for making a full sentence. 

“I can get behind that type of reasoning,”

So what if Darcy’s road to enlightenment or whatever involved violence? So what if it maybe later involved really inappropriate sex with the Avenger members (lol members). Darcy hated Tuesdays. They always fucking dragged and she was going to take anything and everything that made them better, so fuck you very much.


	3. Clint and Darcy Sexytimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set a few months in from when Darcy started having regular sexual encounters with Clint... The process of Darcy asking Clint to have sex is literally her asking him to have sex. He's not that complicated that he'd say no to an out and out offer of intercourse from Darcy.

“Fuck, Darcy!” Clint moaned out.

“You like that, hot shot?” Darcy’s smirk was all teeth from her position above Clint. 

Their bodies slide together easily; sweat lubricating the glide of skin on skin as their chests pressed together. The mat under them creaked and groaned with their movements. Darcy had already cum, but in trying to help get Clint off by riding him and playing up her movements for affect she had worked herself close to another orgasm. She’d been toying with him for a while now. It was inevitable, with the extra time, that she’d get there again. She moved her hips and angled her movements down to better please herself and Clint grated under her. The shift must have messed with his rhythm.

“Come on Darce, no more playin’, please.” Clint bite out, slapping his hand onto the boxing ring mat under them in a mock of tapping out like when they spared. 

“I’m close. Just a little more, babe.” She shushed him, riding him now for herself. “Then I’ll help finish you.”

Clint’s bark of a laugh was her only reply. She wasn’t really looking for one anyway. Darcy closed her eyes and chased her orgasm. She moved her hands down his chest, closer to his abdomen, and started using her arms to help leaver herself up and down by. She was close to collapsing, but it felt too good to stop. She’d found the sweetest angle. 

“F-uck,” she managed before collapsing forward, cuming around Clint’s cock. 

She didn’t have much time to rest on top of him before she was rotated around onto her back, Clint moving with her, his cock still inside her. Moving close to her he held himself above her by his left forearm and used his right hand to grab hold of her hip and move her up to trust into her fast and hard. He was spent moments later. He made a move to fall next to her, but Darcy pulled him half onto her, enjoying his weight. She pulled his head down for lazy kisses while they recovered. 

A while late Clint ventured, “There is no way of saying this without making you sound-“

“Like a slut?”

“Well, no, but… It’s just, Darcy? The way you handled me, handled little-Hawkeye.” –Darcy snorted at this – “It’s like you were born for this, for riding my cock” He ended with a blissed out smile into her collarbone. 

“So you’ve said”

“What?”

“Nothing” Darcy said with a secret smile.

They’d had interludes like this more times than Darcy could count on both hands by. She’d spent a great deal of time playing with Clint, finding what made him tick and making him beg. It was no wonder she new the pace to get him revved up, and how to back off at the first signs of his impending release only to go hard again and get him back to the precipice. Clint was no slouch either. He was a fast study and very good at taking instruction and Darcy was very good at telling him how she liked it.

Clint, fully soft now, slipped out of her. Feeling tacky, but unwilling to get up Clint rolled to the edge of the boxing ring they were in and took the sweat towel and water bottle and rolling back to Darcy’s side.

“Dork,” She giggled as he poured some water onto the towel.

“Nice, and I got this to clean you up with,” He nudged open her legs and cleaned up the juices and cum despite her sass.

“What a gentleman.”

“I don’t think gentlemen take young ladies in public gyms where the buildings owner very probably has cameras set up.” He winced at the thought.

Darcy just laughed at the thought. She had given up worrying about Wednesday finally happening and having everything be suddenly permanent again. After so many times of doing this with Clint, inevitable in very public places and where they were recorded no less, Darcy just didn’t care anymore.

Clint might not be all that romantic, but he did give a good post-sex cuddle. Closing her eyes and snuggling into his embrace, Darcy bowed her head forward to rest on his chest. They shared a moment there until the cold of the gym started getting to them. 

Darcy reluctantly opened her and made a move to back away and get up when her eyes caught on Clint’s flaccid cock. She’d always marveled at it. Nonsensically, when she had first seen it, all Darcy could think about was that saying about people looking like their dogs. Well, Clint’s cock looked like him, or he looked like his cock. Darcy thought it might be kinder to say the former. See, even flaccid the cock had a slight lean to the right. It looked like a broken nose when it was really hard. A broken nose just like Clint’s. 

“Did someone punch you in the dick?”

Clint chocked, “What?”

“I just mean… the way that it leans like that. I Googled it and it is possible to fracture a penis and they usually get these types of kinks in them.” Darcy said this while mindlessly trailing her fingers along the area where his cock was curved.

“Stop that!” He said batting at her hands, but not before his cock made an interested twitch at the attention.

Ignoring his gruffness Darcy pulled back enough from they embrace to look him in the face.

“Well?”

“When the hell did you Google my dick?” Clint asked mildly. “Wait. When had you seen my cock before today?” He looked mildly intrigued by this last thought.

“No deflecting.”

Clint huffed.

The room was silent, but for the whirr of the gym fans in the ceiling.

“Well?” Darcy prompted again.

“I wasn’t punched.”

“Kicked?”

“Christ, kid! No. Just…”

“Was it a horse?”

“What?!”

“I read that this one guy got kicked in the junk by a horse, but his crimp was far more severe.”

“No, Fuck…” Clint sounded a little horrified at the thought.

“I mean, he definitely needed surgery. Did you?”

“Surgery?”

“Cause I’ve those fractures and cause blood flow issues that can lead to erectile-“

Clint forcibly shut her up by moving both hands to her mouth, “Stop. Talking.” He gave her a minuet before moving his hands away slowly.

“If you’d talk then I wouldn’t have to fill in my own blanks here.” Darcy said reasonably.

Looking at her with his best assassin look didn’t seem to do what he was used to having it do. All Darcy did was look at him expectantly. It was eerily similar to Nat’s reaction, but that was because Nat _knew_ him that his looks didn’t faze her. Darcy and him were bro’s, bro’s that it would seem now had sex, but they weren’t _that_ close.

“It was an accident.” He supplied, cowed into admitting. 

“Obviously it was an accident, I doubt a guy would hit himself hard enough in the junk to do that –” she said pointing to his crotch, and was that his dick slowing receding into his body? “– level of damage on purpose?”

“It was just an –”

“Please?” Darcy said, lifting herself up by her forearm and using the position to present her breast out better.

“I’m a master spy, Darcy. Seduction is a not only a tool in my repertoire, but something we’re trained against –” 

“Please?” Darcy breathed into his ear, moving her hand down to pull at his cock the way she new he loved. A firm grip from the base to the tip, ending in a twist at the head and a drag of her thumb nail at the slit.

“Master. Spy.” Clint breathed out, sounding more like self-reassurance than an assertion of fact.

“Whisper it in my ear and I’ll keep going.” Darcy encouraged, the cock in her had stiffening, giving an eager twitch at the end of her words.

“It was Nat,” Clint said distantly.

“She hit you during training?” Darcy said in a commiserating tone. 

“Yeah, training.” The way he said training made Darcy think of the ‘training’ they’d just finished and she smiled wolfishly. Clint’s eyes were shut in bliss so he missed the danger.

“Like how we were training? Boxing?” Darcy said salaciously.

Clint only moaned at the particularly poignant caress on his dick from Darcy.

Licking up his jaw and around his ear Darcy continued, “Or was it like the training we did were I rode you like a horse?” 

“Fuck, yes!” Clint said spurting in Darcy’s sure grip.

There was a quite moment were Darcy waited for Clint to realize what he’d admitted to. She didn’t have to wait long.

“WAIT! NO! I mean, she didn’t, it wasn’t…”Darcy just looked at him with a wide smile.

“Poor Clint –” She started.

“Don’t. Say it.” He snapped.

Unheeded Darcy continued, “Did mean ol’ Natasha fuck your dick so hard that it broke?” She said in false sympathy.

“I think I hate you right now.” Clint said, rolling onto his back and throwing his arm over his eyes. The cum on his stomach felt cold and gummy as it dried.


	4. Chapter 4

For everyone in the tower, it was a Tuesday, well… for everyone other than Darcy that is. More on that later. For now let us talk about Tuesdays. 

Tuesdays were not like Sundays and their pancake goodness. Tuesdays were Clint’s day to make disgusting carny 'food'. One such memorable Tuesday Darcy had come to the communal kitchen only to stop dead a few feet from the kitchen island. She'd taken great big lungs full of caramel vented air. Looking up Darcy had watched Natasha, who was sitting on one of the island’s stools, face clearing showing her effort to hold in laughter at Clint’s morning antics. He’d thought that that mornings breakfast called for a “traditional” carny feast of carameled apples. Darcy still thinks to this day (which for her she refused to acknowledge as a Tuesday) that he’d been pulling her leg when he said they’d really had candied apples for breakfast when he worked for the circus. He was a spy and therefore had one hell of a poker face so Darcy didn’t think she’d ever get heads or tails either way on the subject outside of his company line.

This particular story is not one heralding Clint’s Tuesday breakfast shenanigans. In truth, this isn’t a story about that particular Tuesday, or a particular Tuesday in general... If Darcy really wanted to split hairs about it and if she was basing the relativity of reality on the majority of peoples realities having the day be a Tuesday then… you know what? Let's just say that Darcy had had more Tuesday’s than she cared to and so, majority be damned it was fucking Sunday (that is if she had counted the number of repeating Tuesdays she’d had correctly)… So, ya… This is a story about how Darcy was having a Groundhog Tuesday from hell. 

Darcy’s reality said it was Sunday. Approximately 8 months, 2ish weeks and a handful of days since that first repeated Tuesday found her on this Tuesday/Sunday. She missed Sunday pancakes. With a heavy heart she made her way to the (not pancake) breakfast Clint was cooking in the towers communal kitchen. Coming in from the hallway Darcy caught Bruce’s tea mug that Tony’s wild gesticulations had knocked over. She waved off Tony’s thanks and took the extra hair band from her wrist. She walked around the other side of the full kitchen island to where Jane was eating, hair akimbo and about to slip into her morning coffee. Jane, per usual, was distractedly reading her Science! at the table. Taking the brown hair in hand and tying it up Darcy moved to the empty seat beside Jane on the far side of the island from the science twins.

“Thanks, Darce,” Jane mumbled. 

Darcy grunted a dejected acknowledgment before dropping her head to the counter.

“Darcy?” Natasha asked, concerned. She was sitting on Darcy’s other side along the side of the island opposite the stove.

“I’m fine, I just miss Sunday pancakes. No Tony I can’t make them because Clint has just broken the good burner -” She paused to let Clint swear a loud expletive and there to be the sound of cracking glass from the modern and sleek looking electric stovetop. “And I know you’ve calibrated them to the exact same heat and JARVIS has them programmed blahblahblah, but there is such a thing as feelings in the kitchen, and that burner made the best pancakes regardless what you have to say and it is now and FOREVER broken. And Fuck you very much I do believe in astrology cause that shits hilarious, and we live with a magical Norse God so Science! can suck it. Sorry, Jane.” That last said over Jane’s objection. 

The room would stay silent like this for another 55 seconds following Darcy’s little display. She’d counted the first time she’d done this. Fuck, was she tired. The kind of tired one gets after working 6 days straight and knowing this was your only day off to do house work before the next work week started again. She was moody and felt like being a bitch.

4… 3… 2… 1…

“What’s going on?” Tony. It was always Tony to break the silence. Darcy attributed it to his inability to let a full minute go by without talking. 

“I’m in a Groundhog Day loop. That means I’m repeating the same day over and over again.” Darcy said, turning to Thor before he could express his confusion over the pop culture reference. “It’s magic. It’s not evil as far as Tony-”

“Say I did what now?”

“- or Jane could determine and Thor can confirm this.”

“I can?” 

“And I didn’t touch anything I wasn’t supposed to.” She said that last with slightly more scorn that was warranted but then read: bad mood, bitchiness above.

There was a calculable (but not by her) chance that Tony may say something to the effect of wanting whatever drug she was on, but it looked like today he wasn’t. Instead, she got the Science! trio barrage.

“What precipitated…”

“Do you think it could be radiation, Bruce?”

“We could run a…”

“Yes! But what about…”

They were talking over each other and Darcy only bothered to lift her head from the table when it was time for Clint to bring her the last of the food that had been cooked before his fumble breaking the stovetop. The steam coming from the yellow mess on her plate felt greasy as it wafted into her face… Carny food.

“What can we do?” Thor asked looking concerned at her dejected countenance. He leaded forward in his seat opposite Natasha to pat Darcy’s hand where it restored on the tabletop.

Darcy would have cried. Hell, she had cried a few times when he’d done this. She liked it when he asked because Jane would overhear and pause the Science! and the domino affected the other two geeks at the table. If Natasha asked, “Can we stop it?” the 3 scientists would walk out of the there talking possibilities and drag her along for experiments. Those were bad Tuesday’s.

“There is nothing to be done. It’s not even my Groundhog Day.” That always lead to an experimenting free day, so she threw that one out there for them to chew on. “You guys ran some test on a machine Jane had made back in the New Mexico days. And yes Tony, we know your sensibilities are hurt at her glue gun, duct tape creations, but that’s the one that found the source, half the world away. And no Clint, but thank you for the offer to take a Quinjet out there to get it. The guy we’re looking for that touched the whatever-mer-mjorn-whatzit, Thor back me up, what’s it called?” Darcy said, looking to Thor. Clint, seated next to him now, looked perplexed by the conversation at hand. 

Thor really was the only one that could say the devices name and does, guessing it correctly from what Darcy was able to sound out. Darcy’s tongue just couldn’t get around all of what she thought might be vows, but who knew with alien languages.

“Yeah! That, whatever thing, is geared to him and his Tuesday. No doing about it sadly.” Darcy finished, making a move to eat the melted cheese that had bits of egg in it that was Clint's idea of a good breakfast.

“It is a powerful device and as Lady Darcy has said. If another mortal has activated it there is naught we can do, but wait for his personal realization to come to fruition,” Thor said, eyebrows pinched as he frowning down at island counter top. “How did it get here to Midgaurd?” He mused distractedly as he pulled his head up to look at Darcy vaguely.

“We haven’t figured that out,” Darcy said between bites of greasy melted cheese that was masquerading as scrambled eggs (fucking Clint). She chewed and Tony said “If it’s this other guy that touched it then why are you-” Darcy swallowed her bite and cut him off, “You found the same radiation-”

“So there is radiation involved” Bruce sounded excited, or as excited as he let himself get.

“- that’s similar to that of Mew Mew. We have no idea why it’s in me and not Jane or Thor, but there you go, and no we are not spending another day running tests on Jane and me.” She put her foot down, literally, and made a loud (petulant) stomping noise to emphasize her point.

This had about a 70% (fuck it, she was just making up percentages now) chance of this sometimes working out in her favour. To her luck, Clint chimed in to save her from a Tuesday/Sunday spent without pancakes and as a lab rat.

“So how many times have you…” He trailed off.

“Over 8 months worth of Tuesday and your shitting carny breakfasts, Clint. It’s supposed to be Sunday and pancakes.” She was winning, so sue her. “And I’ll keep missing Sundays until that helpless idiot who started this gets his Groundhog Day-esk angst worked out.” There was a short silence that would eventually lead to a few different paths this Tuesday/Sunday would take. It all depended on who said what first.

“What have you been doing?” Natasha asked mildly.

Darcy turned to her. This was a first. Natasha had never asked this of her before. 

“Um…” Darcy floundered for a second. “After the first few months of getting the why-for’s and the what-to-do’s out of the way I started asking Clint to let me punch him in the gym.”

“What?” Clint looked at her oddly. He looked upset, hurt that she’d want to punch him in particular.

“I had spent an entire Tuesday crying after you guys,” she pointed to the science-inclined, “said I was stuck till Joe Shmoe worked out his shit. The followed day I really needed to punch something, and you were in the gym when I came in,” she said, directly the last to Clint.

“oh…” He still didn’t sound all that happy.

“You ended up teaching me how to wrap my hands for boxing and taught me a few moves. I can hit you now. And not just that first hit that makes you sit up and actually realize that when I say I’ve had some training it’s more than just a self-defense class from the YMCA.” 

The thought of Clint’s face those few times she had managed to get a hit in makes her smile. Her smile grows when she remembers the move he taught her half a month ago that she managed to land yesterday.

“You know that move where you punch someone in the larynx? Yeah, you taught me that, and I hit you with it for the first time yesterday.” Darcy said with pride. Natasha stifled a laugh beside her, and Darcy turned to her, “He’s a bit of a masochist. I mean afterward we had the best-” Darcy stopped abruptly as blood rushed high on her cheeks.

“Oh, please.” Tony started from the other side of the island from Darcy, “Please finish that sentence.” He was leering at her, but the smile was more amused than pervy.

Clint practically choked on his tongue, “We,” he made a motion with his hand pointing to Darcy than to his chest, “we…?”

“You try living through this many Tuesdays in a row and not end up having inappropriate sex!” Darcy tried to defend.

“So you take 2 months to try and stop the looping followed by 6 months of inappropriate sex with Clint?” Jane said, sounding pained, but not surprised by Darcy’s life choices.

“We didn’t have sex every day Of those 6 months, Jane,” Darcy says over the sound of Clint’s inarticulate protests.

“I’ve never touched her,” Clint pleads to Thor.

“Your cock leans heavily to the right when it’s hard.” 

“DARCY!” Jane explodes, blushing.

“You said it was from when you were bring Natasha into S.H.I.E.L.D and you guys had angry assassin sex and she broke-”

“DARCY!” It was Clint’s turn to explode, blushing while Natasha barked out a genuine laugh. 

There was a long silence, and Darcy didn’t know who was going to say what and her blood sang at the first real unique conversation she’s had in what feels like forever.

“So does it?” Tony asked to Clint. “I mean, if it does and you’re saying that you never’ve, you know, with each other, then that would be a tick in the proof column for this time loop business. I mean, for Science! Clint.”

Clint nodded his head imperceptibly, closed-lipped with red high on his cheeks and the back and sides of his neck. “That must have been some good sex to get me to talk about…” Clint trailed off under his breath.

“Well,” Tony was smiling like a loon. “Any other inappropriate sexcapades while on the time loop, Lewis, or is it just Clint?”

At that Clint looked up, terrified. They’d had pillow talk where Clint had said he was not a one woman pony (pun intended since she’d just finished riding him, and he was a dork like that), and commitment just wasn’t in his DNA.

“It wasn’t just Clint.” Darcy assured Clint, but wasn’t spy enough to stop her eyes cutting to Bruce.

Clint and Natasha noticed immediately. Oddly enough so did Bruce.

“Me?” He practically squeaked.

“I said inappropriate for a reason.” Darcy sighed; shame abandoned to the wayside. None of them would remember this come Tuesday/Monday morning.

Bruce was red under his tanned skin. The blush, she knew, went all the way down his chest.

“This is better than Christmas.” Tony said gleefully as he looked between Darcy and Bruce.

“Darcy…” Jane started. “Couldn’t you have been reading the great literary works of the centuries or learning to play the piano or something?” Jane really sounded pained now at how this conversation had devolved.

Breakfast was good and well forgotten by the group sitting around the kitchen island.

“We could end up remembering this, you know?” Clint speaks hesitantly. “I mean, if this guy that touched the whatzit finishes his day then you’ve just told everyone… and we’d all remember…”

“Yes, they would all remember how I broke your-”

“NATASHA!” Clint bellowed, but Natasha just smiled all the sweeter at him.

“Was it just the two of them then?” Tony asked into the silence. He sounded almost disappointed in Darcy.

“I only slept with Clint a handful of times, and Bruce,” She said, turning to try and catch the still blushing older man eye’s, “It was only once and I think it was a little bit of a pity fuck.” He flinched and if a flinch could be self-deprecating Bruce sure pulled it off. “I mean you pitying me!” She rushed out. “It was nice and you were a total gentleman!” Darcy tried for reassuring, but who was she fucking kidding she wasn’t very good at that sort of thing.

“Please, just stop talking Darcy.” It was said quietly, but there was a note of amusement, however faint, behind Bruce’s embarrassment. 

“Hey, you’re all still here!” Steve said in surprise as he came into the kitchen. He went straight for the fridge for his post-morning-run smoothie stuff. He sounded happy for all his surprise until he felt the tension in the room. Steve stopped his smoothie making to say in his most disappointed voice, “What’d I miss? Tony what did you say and to who?” 

As Tony spluttered, Natasha outright laughed saying between catching her breaths, “Darcy seems to be caught in an alien time loop and decided to spend her days-” Natasha was cut off by Darcy diving bodily at her, taking them both to the ground. It was the surprise of the attack that allowed this event to even occur, and Darcy would forever question her sanity in tackling the BLACK WIDOW, but Natasha only laughing harder. The levity and lack of neck-snapping stalled the room and cut the tension enough to have them all laughing along. Everyone, that is, except Steve.

“None of you,” Darcy started, catching her breath as she was still laughing, “none of you say a word to him. He is CAPTAIN FREAKIN AMERICA and, and,” Darcy spluttered for the words, “I can’t have Star-Spangled-Tights over there knowing or hearing about my…” she trailed off.

Clint saved her, 100% in line with stopping anyone else from knowing, from knowing… “Not a word of this until she’s reset, am I understood?” He was a little manic, “You’ll reset, right? They’ll forget? I’ll forget that the once knew…” He said over the island to Darcy who was still startling a breathless Natasha on the floor. 

“I hope she doesn’t have too many more loops to waste time-” Jane started only to be interrupted by a squawk from the unlikely Bruce of all people. 

He blushed to his roots again and mumbled, “I would remind you part of her “wasted time” was involved with…” he trailed off gesturing to himself, “this.” He finished sounding lightly affronted.

“Christmas!” Tony exclaimed, clapping his hand on Bruce’s shoulders. Bruce ducked his head.

At this Steve officially put off his smoothie preparations to look at the people he calls team mates. “What on earth did I miss? Did you say time loop? Like, that moving with the beaver that could tell if the winter would be long or short?”

“Close Cap, but yeah, like that. It was a groundhog not a beaver though.” Clint supplied.

Darcy wasn’t sure what to do with the fact that Natasha seemed complete fine lying on the floor with Darcy straddling her, holding onto Darcy’s hips and running her thumb up and down the slightly exposed skin between pants and shirt.

“Is this how this day is gonna end?” Darcy said quietly to Natasha. 

The team in the background had picked up their own conversations, but Darcy couldn’t catch a single thread from the people behind her. All her focus was on the redhead under her and the questioning tilt and suggestive quirk of manicured eyebrows. 

Darcy smiled.

“Natasha is gonna teach me to fight today, Clint. Your services will not be required this day,” Darcy shot over her shoulder not looking away from Natasha’s eyes.

Darcy dimly registered the silence, a calm before the storm that they left behind in the kitchen, but the smirk on Natasha’s face was far more interesting a development for the day. Better than parsing out if Steve would get the full story out of those left in the kitchen or finding out what would happen if she told Tony she’s given him a blow job or that while she’d been doing it he’d been blowing Steve. Don’t judge. As she’d said: You try going 8 months, 2ish weeks and a handful of days and not have really, really, inappropriate sex…


	5. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was writing other stuff for this Universe and found that this just sort of... happened? I decided to post it for you all while you wait for that other stuff. At least one question has been answered. Darcy's Tuesday/Sunday from the previous chapter was not her last. Sadly no one remembers Clint's penis was broken by Nat. Do not fret for there are new people to embarrass and laughs to be had :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Darcy woke to her phone alarm and couldn’t bring herself to bemoan the fact that the day seemed to be still repeating. Yesterday with Natasha had been… Amazing! The woman could do things, assassin trained things that, when translated into the bedroom, made Darcy make the most embarrassing noises.

Slipping out of bed quickly Darcy dressed in her Killer-Date-Night jeans, the ones that made her ass look pert and tight. Regretfully she was limited in tops seeing as how she had meant to do laundry the Sunday before this repeated Tuesday bullshit had started. In the far corner of her closet, she did find a hanging blouse that was a swirl of blue flowers on white that looked nice. Throwing that on Darcy left her room in search of Natasha for a repeat performance of the earlier days activities.

Dallying in her room meant that by the time she made it to breakfast Bruce was just dropping the last of his broken tea mug into the trash bin and Clint was cooking on the burner next to the one he’d broken. Darcy noted that Jane had a streak of coffee on her shirt from where her hair hand fallen in her mug and then out again to land on her shoulder. Darcy took this in within seconds of entering the kitchen from the hallway. She dismissed it all and moved to sit next to Natasha on the side of the kitchen island opposite where Clint was making ‘breakfast’ at the stove. 

“I’m repeating the same day over and over again,” Darcy said to the room as she sat down. “And there’s nothing to be done about, your science has failed us,” She addressed this first to Tony on her left then turned right to face Jane on the other side of Natasha. “But that doesn’t matter cause I need a repeat performance of what happened during yesterday’s Tuesday,” This last Darcy said directly to Natasha.

“What do you mean?”

“Darcy, are you high?”

“Has there been any signs of radiation in the tower, JARVIS?”

Darcy ignored the questions and continued to look into Natasha’s eyes, silently begging the redhead to read something from her that indicated they’d had really great sex and should do it again. Darcy didn’t read too much into her intense need for more of the lady loving. Whatever the reasons she was just going to go with it. And after so long of repeating the same Tuesday Darcy felt she was owed good sex when she wanted it.

There was a beat of silence from Natasha before she spoke. “Was there something specific from me that made yesterday significant?” The tone was careful, but Natasha’s eyes were crinkling slightly at the corners. Darcy had noticed this small sign when they’d been wrapped up in each other the day before. It was a look Natasha had for when Darcy was being unexpectedly interesting. 

“Listen, we had the most amazing sex yesterday and that shit needs to happen again, like starting 5 minutes ago. You see, we had most of all day yesterday and we were still going when midnight hit and I ‘woke up’ to it being Tuesday morning again.” Darcy went for broke and just put it all out there.

“Darcy!” Jane exclaimed. This was not unexpected. “If what you’re saying is true and you have an untold amount of days to do something with, why not try for something meaningful?” 

“Sex with Tash is always… meaningful.” Clint threw out over his shoulder.

“Thank you, Clint,” Natasha smirked.

Darcy was happy to note that Natasha had yet to look away and wasn’t brushing her off. 

“So we…”

“Yes, and it’s good!” Darcy enthused. “Like who knew that lady sex could be that good? I mean… It might just be you and your… talents…” Darcy trailed off as she felt Tony being a creepy mouth breather over her shoulder.

“Please, don’t stop on my account. But perhaps you want to finish this conversation somewhere else? Just gonna throw a plan out, but have you seen the penthouse suit? Natasha? I think you’d both like it up there. I could give you a tour of the master bed-room.” He left a too long pause between ‘bed’ and ‘room’ making his intentions for where he wanted that tour to lead. 

“Don’t be crude Tony,” Bruce said before seating himself back at the kitchen island. Darcy noted the cute blush the morning’s conversation was eliciting from the older man.

“If Tony’s offering then I’d like to put my name in the ring for consideration,” Clint said as he plunked ‘breakfast’ in front of Darcy. He had to lean over the island to do it and made a not so subtle flex of his arm as he did it. 

“Look what you’ve started,” Jane lamented dropping her head into her hands.

“As great as the sex was with you and Steve, Tony, my lady parts demand the sweet, sweet skills of other lady parts this day,” Darcy said in false remorse.

Tony went bright red at this. His blush did not stop at go, did not collect 200$, it was just suddenly red from the normal tan in a second flat.

“I didn’t know I could make you blush like this,” Darcy wondered aloud, distracted from her goal by this new development. “I mean I had your cock in my mouth and the Cap was pumping rather vigorously into yours, and we still couldn’t manage to induce the blush your sporting right now…”

“Vigorously?” Squeak Steve as he entered the kitchen from finishing his morning run.

“Lady Darcy, perhaps this was a vivid dream?” Thor said in all kindness. “Warriors are known to have such fantastical reveries about intimate matters when it has been too far between bed partners.”

That hurt. The topic of Darcy’s love life had been of debate between Jane and Thor (Darcy refused to be party to it) for some time. Darcy’s last lover (that they knew about) had been Ian… And so what? Sure, it had been a while since Ian, but Darcy had way too much Avenger BS and being Jane’s girl Friday (plus looping Tuesday’s) to deal with boyfriends texting her all the time asking how her day was going or texting her about theirs… She didn’t have the patients for it even on good days. (Darcy admits she’s a bad girlfriend sometimes… she’d even go so far as to say that she is bad girlfriend material.)

“Some guy touched the whatever-mer-mjorn-whatzit, Thor!” Darcy defended.

“Tis odd you would be caught in the devices snare, but this phenomenon is known to Asgard,” Thor said after figuring out the things name from Darcy sounding it out a few times. “My apologies for doubting you, friend Darcy. How did that device get on Midgard, though?” 

“This has gotten off topic,” Tony groused and Clint gave a nod in agreement.

“I think it can stay off topic from whatever this hell I walked into,” Steve said, finally unfrozen from his earlier shock. 

He moved into the room and went to the fridge to make his post-run smoothie. The island was tall, but the seats put Darcy high enough that she could admire the tight ass Steve’s running shorts displayed. From the corner of her eye, she saw Natasha look to said ass and back to Darcy. 

“You think he’d want to?” Natasha said in an aside to Darcy, and she was the only one to hear it. The room was too abuzz in their own conversations about the device and who should get priority consideration on the threesome list to overhear.

Darcy smiled.

“Steve,” Natasha caught his attention before he’d pulled too much of his smoothie fixings from the fridge.

Turning to face Natasha, Steve said carefully, “Yes?”

“Darcy and I require you for the afternoon-“

“The day, really,” Darcy interjected.

“Yes, the whole day. Best put that away now.” Natasha finished, waving a hand at Steve’s things.

“Nat I-” Steve sounding warier now that he knew whatever the two women had planned involved Darcy. His ears were still adorably pink from what he’d overheard her saying earlier.

“No!” Tony yelled after catching on. “He just walked in! I called dibs first!”

“You ladies sure?” Clint said flexing each arm more overtly.

“This is so inappropriate,” Jane tried one last time.

“That about sums up these Tuesday I’ve been having.” Darcy agreed. “And Clint, as good as you are at sex, I think that since both Nat and I are going to be involved this calls for some super-soldier refractory recovery.”

Natasha snorted, and Steve’s face lit up bright red again.

“Have you had sex with everyone at this table, Darcy?” Jane squeaked looking alarmed at first Darcy then Thor.

“I would not-,” Thor said in a rush to assure his lady love.

“Don’t worry, Jane. You and Thor are safe from being despoiled. You guys are the only two here that I haven’t.”

“Does that… Does that mean we…?” Bruce sounded winded from the prospect. 

“Darcy! Not Bruce too!” Jane said proprietarily. Tony was a whore and was expected to sleep around, but Bruce was Jane’s science friend, sexless like a Ken doll. This whole business was bursting Jane’s worldviews. 

“Isn’t Coulson in his quarters today?” Clint said speculatively.

“Yes, yes he is,” Darcy said with a note of pride, looking to the ceiling lights as she smiled roguishly, lost in the memory. 

Next to her Natasha chuffed a laugh and stood up. She rounded the island to where Steve had been surreptitiously putting his smoothie stuff back in the fridge. Darcy took that as a very good sign. She whispered something in his ear that had a noticeable shiver running through Steve’s frame. As quite as the room was no one heard what Natasha had said.

“Um…” Steve swallowed and snapped his eyes to Darcy. “Yes, yes I think that would… work.” The last coming out cracked and broken. Darcy was about 80% sure she’d seen Natasha lick Steve’s ear.

“Done!” Darcy said happily, smacking the countertop before jumping off her seat to join the now exiting Natasha and Steve. 

“Oh come on!” Tony tried one last time.

Turning, but continuing out of the kitchen backwards Darcy said, “Sorry, maybe tomorrow’s Tuesday.” She added a wink and turned down the hall to catch up to her plans for the day.


End file.
